Under the Lights
by AceOfSpades22
Summary: With Iain gone, Lars has to pay to care for his little sister some how... And so he finds himself one of Amsterdam's finest male strippers. When said Scotsman comes back though, the two end up passing Lars' stage time in a way no one expects.


**I have to admit, I didn't think I was going to make the month of November! With literally a minute to spare, I present this month's story! Hopefully you guys like it as much as I did!**

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Lars sighed distastefully as he slipped on the night's "costume." While the revealing black and navy garments weren't as bad as they could be, they were still bad enough to make him squirm internally. It wasn't that he even really minded being a stripper, it was a work out, a reason not to wear clothing and paid really well, it was more the fact that he worked at night for the most part, and that left his teenaged little sister home alone.

Bella was the reason he had taken up his current occupation in the first place. Working on the side for Matthias as a bouncer just didn't bring in enough money to live off of anymore, not without his Iain's help...

Only, he supposed Iain wasn't his anymore. He wasn't even so sure they had ever been together in the first place, even if they acted like a couple with each other, kissing, holding hands, touching... Sleeping together in both a literal sense and in a sexual way... He supposed that's what happened when his one and only friend worked to save his life for a year and half and they consequently ended up falling in love with each other. Not that that had made much of a difference in the redheaded Scotsman sticking around.

Of course, Lars was being unfair in his hurt and he knew it... Sure they still talked almost every day, but it wasn't the same. He missed the man.

It wasn't Iain's fault that his littlest brother's life had gone all to hell when he had ran away from his house a few years ago, and he knew his hurt was seriously unjustified when he had been the one to convince Iain to go after the kid. That had been years ago... Maybe that's why his bitterness was so strong and his heart clenched painfully every time he so much as saw the color red.

With a frustrated shake of his head he moved out onto the stage he performed on every night, immediately receiving catcalls and whistles of appreciation from the majorly female audience, though he knew that there were plenty of men out their too, most of them regular customers to the club. He never usually wasted his time on talking to either the females or the males though, not one for dating.

As he continued down the stage he allowed a "dangerous" gleam come into his eyes as he smirked, internally laughing and rolling his eyes at what such a simple change of expression could cause. Cheering, more whistling, already a few dollars thrown up on stage at his feet.

There was a reason he stayed a stripper instead of trying to find a different, less erotic career. Being over six feet tall with muscles that rippled across his stomach and torso with the slightest of flexes, he knew he wasn't hard on the eyes. He was one of the few performers that actually had a steady flow of regulars that came every week or so to see him. Some he knew were there hoping he'd sleep with them, as flings weren't uncommon to come across in his profession, but most came solely for the eye candy he provided for them.

As the beat to the music that accompanied his presence just barely changed, giving him his cue, he began to sensually unbutton the trench coat around his shoulders, one of two garments on his person that actually belonged to him. The action rewarded him with a chorus of squeals and appreciative howls, followed once more by a couple of bills tossed at his feet.

What was the joy of watching other people get naked? He didn't understand the point when every single person in the audience could go home and look up perfect, photo shopped bodies and not have to pay to do it. It was amusing though, if he was honest with himself, to see just how much control he had over the people that watched him with such rapture.

As the coat fell off of his shoulder and onto the floor, revealing a navy colored shirt so tight it acted more like a second skin, fabric clinging perfectly to his muscled chest, he caught sight of one of his regulars, a woman with bright green eyes that looked similar to his Iain's.

She was one of the few, if not the only one he made a habit to talk to every time he got the chance, this time wasn't an exception. Though strictly speaking he wasn't allowed to talk to the customers while on stage, he was allowed to single them out and strip specifically for them.

His smirk faded into a small smile as he tilted his head in the woman's direction, receiving a reserved smile in return as she watched him continue with his show. While Lars didn't make a habit of finding a relationship to fall into, he had had a few one night stands since Iain's departure. This woman had been at least half of those.

With a friendly wink he pulled his shirt from his body and gently dropped it in her lap, a soft laugh falling from his lips as she blushed and pressed her face into the garment. He didn't have a love for her anywhere close to the amount of love he had for Iain, but she was easy to be friends with.

His attention was drawn away from the woman again as he was showered with money, the flexing, rippling muscles of his stomach driving the crowd absolutely crazy. Hands reached out pathetically to try and get him to let them touch his toned, powerful frame; His muscular, perfectly toned stomach, his bulky but not grotesquely so arms, even his still clothed legs... Anything.

He _was _working... There wasn't time to be flirtatious.

With a surprisingly agile turn, he showed off the muscles of his back, knowing the scar that rested there would mean something completely different to the frenzied, partially aroused crowd than it did to him. Their stares held weight to them as eyes raked all across his body, hungrily taking in his body. The idea made him shiver, and not for the first time he wondered just why he put himself up to being some animal on display for others' perverse pleasure.

Sighing, he shook his head as he continued to ripple as he moved to the beat of the music, and slowly turned back to face the crowd with his hands at the button to his pants, undoing the button with the same "dangerous" gleam to his forest colored eyes as he had had when he had first come on stage.

More than a few excited whistles sounded around the room as cries or "take it off!" sounded from multiple throats, both effeminate and masculine, yet as he moved to do just that a single pair of jade colored eyes caught his eyes even though they were at the far end of the room. The bright looking eyes were amused and affectionate while they stared at him as he continued to move to the music, looking a bit strange as he just kept his hands at the top of his pants while his eyes sparked with a mixture of shock, self-consciousness and longing.

He was so unnerved and caught off guard by the heartbreakingly familiar stare that he didn't even notice the hands of more than one person shove money inside of the top of his pants, trying to act as an incentive for him to continue with his stripping, but those eyes pinned his clothing onto him. Soon a few unhappy cries and shouts were tossed at him, growing increasingly more hostile the longer he remained partially clothed.

Just as he stopped moving entirely, the woman who he had given his shirt to mounted the stage with a little sashay of her hips, gently taking his hand and leading him off of the stage as if it were all part of the show and returning to finish his show for him. She knew him well enough to have seen the flash of emotion in his eyes, and even if they weren't exactly together, she wasn't going to let him run the risk of losing money or his job when something was upsetting him.

Lars was grateful for the woman, a smile on his face for a second before it faded completely as nerves churned inside of his stomach. Iain? Those eyes had to be his... No one else had eyes quite as sharp and green, quite as expressive or piercing... not as completely and utterly, heart meltingly familiar as his Iain.

He didn't even bother to change or pull clothing on, leaving him garbed only in his jeans and his scarf as he rushed to the backstage door and threw it open, ignoring the looks of confusion and longing he received from the club patrons that saw and recognized him. He had to find his Iain. Those eyes _had _to have been his.

The longer he searched the more frantic and desperate he got to find Iain, starting to think that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe those eyes hadn't really been Iain's and he just missed the man to the point he was starting to imagine him... Or worse, maybe he was forgetting exactly what his perfect eyes looked like. The more anxious he got the harder it was to keep up his search as grief weighed down on his heart, leaving him to hunch a bit in defeat. Iain wasn't there...

Disappointment weighed down his shattering heart as he turned around just as his first song ended and the music volume lowered as the dj started to gear up the second song. The woman who had filled in for him collected his tips and his clothing, along with her own and left the stage. He felt ready to cry out in longing for his Scotsman as he walked back onto the stage in her place, nodding his head in gratitude

Just as the music was turned back again, a weight jumped up onto his back, legs wrapping tightly around his stomach, just high enough they avoided the scar and damaged parts of his back. Arms secured loosely around his neck as a freezing nose tip pressed against his neck, soon accompanied by a kiss.

"Darlin' ah missed ye." A voice whispered in his ear as the person on his back tightened his legs and his arms around him.

A shudder rolled down Lars' spine as he pressed his lips to one of the pale hands that were secured around his neck just before the man on his back released his hold and dropped back onto the ground, leaving him free to start moving about the stage. To his utter shock, Iain moved in front of him and started copying his movements almost perfectly, though he was fully clothed, where Lars was not.

The usual whistles and catcalls were absent as confusion rolled through the room, no one recognizing the new comer on the stage, but once more the woman saved Lars' ass, whistled suggestively and threw a few bills onto the stage. The rest of the room quickly followed suit, once more calling out "take it off!".  
Iain played up the provocative nature of stripping with bold winks and fierce, suggestive grins, shocking not only the audience, but the man behind him. With a quiet laugh, he complied with what was called out to him and Lars and stripped off his shirt, revealing a far leaner, pale chest, though muscle still shown and rippled nicely.  
"Damn..." Lars gasped out loud, eyes widening noticeably as Iain turned to face him, grabbed his hands and placed them on his hips with a positively devious grin. The resulting cheer was thunderous, only growing louder when the little spitfire grabbed ahold of the top of Lars' pants and started pulling them off of his hips teasingly slow.

The redhead had everyone's absolute attention as he snaked his tongue from his mouth and lightly licked against Lars' stomach, laughing loud enough for the man to hear when the action was met with a startled shiver. He had seen enough of this kind of thing looking for his little brother to know exactly how to play a crowd, and he wasn't disappointed.

Knowing what to do was only half of the reason why he was actually stripping himself and his past lover. In all actuality, he had missed Lars more than he had originally thought was possible, and while they were basically walking, visual porn flaunting about the stage as they were, he couldn't deny that it was great to see him again. While he would have preferred to be held up against the Dutchman's rippling, muscular chest, he was perfectly ok with a little exhibition.

As soon as he had rid the man of his pants, leaving him in a move than revealing garment, he spun around, keeping the man's hands at his hips as he smirked at the room. "Dance with me darlin'." He said under his breath, basking in the cheers and attention of the ravenous crowd.

Lars was more than amused, and quite frankly a bit aroused by Iain's display, but he followed along with him, pulling him back until his chest pressed against the man's back and they moved in a provocative, grinding fashion.

Slowly their dancing became less and less about the audience and more and more about each other, subtly teasing and trying to mess with the other until finally Lars just grumbled quietly and bent over Iain, biting against his neck with a hum of satisfaction. The whistles of appreciation he received fell on completely deaf ears as he was rewarded for the bite with a pale hand tangling almost harshly in his hair.

The sounds of the crowd continued to fade as the two were reminded exactly why they had loved each other in the first place. Their bodies, no matter which way they moved, where they turned, how they pressed together, fit perfectly, two puzzle pieces that were made exactly for each other. It was less about even being overly sexual and more about holding each other close, recommitting the feel of their bodies molding together.

By the end of the song, the stage was so covered in bills they couldn't move more than a step in any direction without stepping on money. They were reluctant to pull away from each other enough to clean up the stage, gather their clothing and move into the changing room, where they were met with a neatly stacked pile of bills, and the other half of Lars' clothing, left behind for him by the woman from the audience. Of course, these facts went completely unnoticed.

No sooner had the hit back stage did Lars have Iain pressed hard up against a wall and their lips were locked in a fiery dance of teeth and tongue, an old battle for dominance of the situation surfacing with their passionate kiss. Just like any other time, Iain caved and curved up against Lars' bare chest hungrily, having missed the far larger man's touch and taste more than he had thought possible. He eagerly opened his lips to his past lover and was immediately met with a warm, strong tongue mapping out the exspanse of his mouth.

Lars hadn't felt such love in years since Iain's departure. The emotion swelled fiercely in his chest, as he ran his tongue against his redhead's having missed the taste of cigarettes and scotch that always flavored the man's saliva.

Clothing already gone in part, hands danced all across bodies, fingers pinched at nipples and nails raked sensually across backs as they tried to pull each other impossibly closer in their heated exchange that ended up breaking off, both heaving for air.

Always one to be sinfully out done, Iain stifled a low moan as Lars pressed his perfect mouth against his neck, teasing so skillfully with lips and teeth and tongue. He had long forgotten his own sensitive spots, and ended up shivering violently every time he was reminded of one. All the love and affection he had been missing in his life had just been locked away in his Lars, left behind with his strong, protective arms and his loving lips. This time when he felt a moan rise in his throat he let it go, eyes closing as sentimental tears welled up just barely. He had felt so alone for so long...

"Ah missed yeh." He whispered as he brought his pale fingers up to tangle in his Lars' hair and tilted his head to the side to give him better access to the skin he so desperately assaulted.

The words made Lars pause and shiver as he pulled back to look at Iain with eyes that swirled so faintly with affection and adoration. He never had been one to express his emotion's much, but the love Iain could see, faint as it was, was enough to make his heart flutter in joy.

"I missed you too sweetheart." Lars rumbled in a soft voice, just holding the man he had missed so greatly for a moment so he could look into his eyes, the ones he had recognized so instantly while stripping up on the stage.

The strange sense of irrational betrayal faded after so long when he recognized his own pain mirrored in his lover's eyes, not happy to see it, but glad to know that Iain still so clearly loved him. The revelation lasted mere seconds and entire life times all at once, but was soon broken by another round of passionate kisses that resulted in Iain returning the favor by repeating the assault he had gone through so willingly.

The two were completely littered in love bites, the dark bruising marks stretching all over their necks, collarbones and shoulders. Their kisses grew needier as they pressed their hips together pointlessly, until finally they caved and stripped each other of what little remained of their clothing, their arousal so perfectly matched and in sync that it was impossible to tell who had stripped who first. It was just apparent that they both were naked and had no care in the world on where they were, just that they were with each other.

"Fuck..." Lars cursed under his breath as he shivered with longing, wanting to take Iain right then and there in the backstage room, not caring who could possibly see them. He had no control when it came to the Scotsman, never really had. Iain apparently had the same idea.

With lust filled, half lidded jade eyes, Iain snatched one of Lars' hands and brought it up to his mouth before drawing his fingers between his lips, coating them generously in saliva. He knew how the process went. No matter how many times he had said he didn't need to go through the whole "stretch and prep" stage, Lars wouldn't have sex with him without it. It was for the better he supposed. Without being stretched, it would hurt a hell of a lot more than it needed to. He was _little _and Lars most definitely was not.

Lars wasted no time in pressing one of his spit coated fingers deep inside of his lover as soon as his hand was returned to him, and couldn't help but laugh softly when a little thrill of excitement rolled through the man at the action. Finding it difficult to reach with them facing each other, he lifted Iain up with his free arm, braced the lean redhead against the wall and continued wiggling his finger about inside of him while Iain wrapped his legs around his waist and pressed his face against his neck, fingers tangling almost harshly inside of his hair. As he continued to finger his lover, the man wrapped around him bit against his already battered neck.

With a low, breathy moan Iain wiggled his hips and bit onto Lars' shoulder in frustration, the man moving far to slow in his desire to be careful.

"Are yeh waiting for a personal invitation darlin'" He mumbled sarcastically, grinning against his lover's skin when he heard an exasperated sound fall from Lars' lips, even though he was rewarded with a second finger being added.

They had done this so many times before that the strange feeling of Lars' fingers moving truly had missed everything about his Dutchman, from the physical feel of his body and arms holding him in place to the care and affection in his eyes as he made sure not to hurt him. The thought made him smile and blush just a little, but he hid the flood of color to his cheeks against the man's neck, grateful his skin was already heated with desire.

All thoughts of love and even his embarrassment faded as he felt the tips of the blonde's fingers brush against the bundle of nerves buried deep inside of him. He struggled to hold in

The sudden moan that built in his throat, not wanting to give his lover the satisfaction of hearing his pleasure just yet. Lars would have to work for it.

Lars hadn't missed the man tense and shudder with the thrust of his fingers, and sound or not he knew just what he pressed against. With a victorious, teasing bite to his Scotsman's shoulder, he added in a third finger and pressed right up against the nerves inside of his lover, smirking when he was rewarded with another shudder.

"Give it up sweetheart." He whispered into Iain's ear, lips close enough the just barely brushed against the blush and lust warmed skin. It was a game that they had often played, holding their noises back from each other. As fun as it was to tease though, it made them both antsy and uncomfortable if sounds were not exchanged.

Iain wasn't ready to completely give up the game just yet, but he did reward his lover with a sharp intake of breath, the pleased, near silent noise enough to ease Lars for a little while. It wasn't worth upsetting the man over, especially not since this was the first time they had seen each other in far too long. As Lars withdrew his fingers however, an involuntary whine of protest bubbled past Iain's lips before he could stop it.

"Patience sweetheart. Patience." Lars chided with another quiet laugh as he wrapped his now free arm around Iain's waist to further support him before lining himself up with his lover's entrance.

He had never been one to intentionally hurt Iain, not when he was angry, not when he was upset, and certainly not during sex. It was always a struggle for him to push inside of the much smaller man for this reason, because he knew it hurt him initially, even if the man had assured him on multiple occasions that once the pain faded the pleasure was worth it. Even still, he hesitated, struggling to justify his pleasure at Iain's expense, just as he had every other time.

The hesitation caused Iain to sigh and he gently touched Lars' cheek, eyes soft and faintly amused. How many times was he going to have to reassure the man that he was ok? That he would be just fine?  
"Darlin' ah'm fine. Ah'll be ok. Yeh won't hurt me Lars. Ah promise." He sighed as he leaned against his lover's chest and pressed a sweet, affectionate kiss to his lips, resting their foreheads together with a sigh. "It'll be alright."

Lars bit his lip as he met Iain's eyes, still a bit hesitant, but seeing the endless love and affection in the man's eyes he nodded slowly and kissed him back in the same sweet fashion before pushing his way inside of his lover slowly. At every little tense and shudder, he would stop and wait for Iain to calm back down, his face to smooth back out, until Iain nipped against his neck in exasperation.

"Honestly, yer nae hurting me." He sighed, voice clear enough that his words just might have been true had Lars not been able to feel him tense.

"I just want to make sure..." Lars defended, though at the impatience and teasing tone of Iain's voice he pressed completely inside of him with a small shake of his head.

The resulting friction, as reluctant as Lars had been, made him groan quietly, the sound resonating deep in his chest as Iain's muscles constricted around his throbbing length. Even in this aspect they fit together perfectly, just as they had in the less physical dancing on stage.

Iain couldn't help but feel prideful at the please, sensual sound, soft as it was. _He _was the one that made Lars sound like that, the one that made the perfect man that held him and slowly rocked in and out of him, erasing the discomfort and pain with his slow, gentle movement, sound so completely aroused.

As soon as Lars was sure Iain was alright he pressed the man's back to the wall firmly and began moving him up and down, finding the action far easier than trying to awkwardly thrust up into him. As much as he wanted to go slow though, in the way they were positioned, Iain had far more control than he had originally thought.

The spitfire redhead completely forwent the slow and steady pace that his blonde lover usually went through and went straight to moving quickly, a devious light in his aroused, bright eyes once he realized he could slam himself down on Lars' length by moving his legs. The resulting collision was spine jarring and pleasing, sending waves of pleasure through him, and by the quiet moans and rumbling groan coming from Lars, just as frequently as his own soft noises, the man was feeling the same shockwaves and bursts as he was.

There was no pain, only mind numbing, speech stealing pleasure as Iain lifted himself up off of Lars at the same time as the blonde pulled him up, only to perfectly reverse those exact actions, both working to slam the smaller man downwards. There was no doubt in either one's mind that the Scotsman would be seriously sore come the morning, but the harder they worked to slam him down and the louder, more frenzied their sounds grew, the less either of them cared.

It was hard to decide who grew more desperate first, Lars with his quickening, strengthening movements as the friction against his length sent warmth pooling inside of his stomach and groan rumbling so close together in his chest it sounded more like a deep, bassy hum, or Iain with his much higher sounding, keening moans as the nerves inside of him were struck over and over, each pounding, jarring impact harder than the last. Their heart beat as one as breath heaved harshly in their chests, each drawing inevitably closer to the finish they knew was close coming. Moans split the air around them.

It was in the span between heartbeats that timed slowed impossibly as they both lifted up, Iain with his legs and Lars with his arms, the sweat on their chests mixed together along with their sex heated breath. Everything happened in such slow motion it seemed that a lifetime had passed before Iain was slammed back down onto Lars and their cries of sheer ecstasy rose from their throats in the form of names and fierce love. Stars burst all across their vision, making it impossible to see, though they didn't need to feel the height of sensation and pleasure they were both locked in in that ethereal time between release and coming down from their sex driven high.

It was only once their vision returned and the sounds of sex faded, that time returned to normal, both spent and more satisfied than they had been in years. They didn't once let each other go, even after Lars had set Iain back onto the ground, both too unstable to stand without the support of the other's arms around their body.

Iain rested his head contently against Lars' shoulder, burring his face against the man's sweat dampened, slowly cooling neck. The faintest traces of pleasure still burst up his spine and his heart beat rapidly in his chest with all of the love he had tried to ignore being apart from his Lars. With a soft, content hum, he pressed a sweet, chaste kiss against the man's neck, eyes closing even as they stood wrapped in each other's arms.

"Yeh know darlin'... Whit do yeh say we find a real bed and yeh remind me just how much ah love yeh?" He asked in a suggestive voice, laughing quietly when Lars gave an eager sound and all but dove into his clothing. He had the strangest feeling they were going to have a long, passionate night, and he was perfectly ok with that.

After all, they had years to make up.

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**So there you have it. Review if you'd like, I'd love to hear from you guys!**


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